Bad boys

They were the untouchables, the unreachable ones, the Diablos, or Bad Boys, as some called them.
The rich, handsome, famous, charming, powerful siblings. They paid the school fees just to pay them; after all, they didn't study, they were practically the owners of the school. Their names were mentioned like gods in the school hallways.

Dylan, or Void, the oldest, the typical stubborn, headstrong one.
Bryan or Casha, the second one, the blond with the falsely calm killer look.
Harry or Parker, the red-haired jerk, pervert, scoundrel, the guy who sleeps around.
And James or Cambota, the silent one, the quiet one, the shy one.

Anyone would be afraid to get into trouble with them, but Thata? Someone who's always had to deal with this animosity doesn't care anymore. Ever since you were in kindergarten, the four of them have been chasing you, picking on you, annoying you.
Some say they only stay in school because of you.
That was irritating. If they hated you, why are they always so present? Always so close? Even if it's just to make jokes, to tease, they're still there. Still damnably present.
You hear the roar of those motorcycles across campus, signaling that the Diablos have arrived. Trying to deny that it affected you was like shooting yourself in the foot. And then, they walk in, always with a closed face, always serious, but when they see you, they flash a damn wicked grin.
Dylan nudges you lightly, Harry is quick, grabs your backpack, and as you open your mouth to protest, one of the boys from the school yells from the top of the school.

"Look at the school's little hottie, what's wrong? Caleb didn't want to sleep with you?" a random boy shouts, jokingly referring to his ex-boyfriend.

Dylan: "Repeat that, you son of a bitch!" he shouts, his voice like thunder.